


A Tale of Two

by Green



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angel Book of Days Challenge, Episode: s04e03 The House Always Wins, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-03
Updated: 2003-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-01 18:05:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green/pseuds/Green
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel and Wesley try to protect a child.</p><p>Timeline ~ Early S4, "The House Always Wins"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tale of Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JaneDavitt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneDavitt/gifts).



_It was the best of times._

It was the worst of times.

***

_Connor was growing. Tiny baby fists had turned into pudgy grabbing fingers, and unknowing half-closed eyes had become bright and inquisitive. At eleven months, he weighed close to twenty pounds. He was learning to walk in fits and starts, holding on to anything he could get his hands on. He would fall, whine for a moment, then get up and do it again. It was difficult for Angel and Wesley to let him learn on his own._

Lorne was in Las Vegas, in his own show, and the phone conversations were few and far between. Cordelia was gone, to where they weren't sure; they feared the worst, but they went on.

Fred and Gunn were wrapped up in each other, totally in love, and that was fine. Wes could feel the three of them -- Angel, Connor and himself -- growing closer into a unit more like a family than anything he'd ever known.

Connor's first word was Daddy. He used it for both Angel and Wes.

At times, Wesley regretted killing Holtz. But only in passing, fragmented seconds, and then the regret was gone, replaced with something like relief.

***

"I was looking for Angel Investigations. There was a message on the voice mail that they were out of town, and I'd heard about you," the man said. "I need someone who has experience with ... special cases."

Wesley looked at him and cocked his head. The man was in his early thirties, with a muscular build, dark brown hair, and a distinctive middle class look. Everything about the man was comfortably suburban, from the scuffed brown leather loafers on his feet to the twelve dollar haircut crowning his head. He would have looked fresh and healthy if not for the spread of stubble on his chin and the dark purple bruise-like circles under his eyes.

"I'm handling all of Angel's cases this week while he's unavailable," Wes said. Inwardly, he winced. Unavailable was a very fitting word for what Angel was. "Why don't you have a seat and explain."

The man frowned and his eyes darted to the door. It was obvious that he wasn't sure about this, was thinking of just leaving. Wes had seen this same type countless times over the years. Never sure if they were really in whatever situation they were in, wary of anyone who would want to be involved in their problems. Only now, Wes was facing it alone. He knew what to do, how to speak, what questions to ask, but it wasn't the same as knowing that he was fighting at Angel's side. He wondered when it had stopped being something he did for Good and became something he did for Angel.

"I assure you, I'm equipped to handle whatever it is you are experiencing," Wesley said. It wasn't entirely the truth, but the chances of something coming up that he and his hired men could not deal with were slim.

The man seemed to have come to a decision when he held out his hand to shake Wesley's. "My name's John Smart," he said. 

"Mr. Smart," Wes acknowledged with a tip of his head, then motioned for him to sit. "Just start at the beginning."

***

_"It started after my wife, Laura, died," Mr. Smart said. He frowned, thinking back, and continued. "First, a relative of hers just showed up out of the blue."_

Connor chose that moment to crawl to Wesley's feet and pull himself up, gripping Wesley's pant leg with chubby fingers as he stood.

Angel smiled fondly at them both. Wes felt warm inside, like he was beside a toasty fire on a damp, cold day. 

Angel turned his attention back to Mr. Smart. "How long ago did your wife die, and how old is your son?"

"She's been gone since September, and Jakey's eighteen months. At first, it was just little things, and I wasn't sure. I've been known to be a bit paranoid about my child." Mr. Smart said. He smiled sadly. "Guess I got that from Laura."

Angel smiled and glanced back at Connor, now sitting on Wes's knee, playing with the buttons of his shirt. "Understandable. Go on."

Mr. Smart took a deep breath and continued. "Like I said, it was just a few little things. The distant cousin, first. She appeared right after the funeral, saying she'd been out of touch with Sarah for a while and she'd like to spend time with Jakey to make up for her loss. I ... didn't let her. I was in a bit of a bad place and told her to come back in a month or two. She came back two weeks later and demanded to see Jakey." Mr. Smart reddened. "I told her to piss off."

Angel nodded and motioned for him to continue.

"Then there were the hints from the babysitter that maybe I wasn't prepared to be a single father. And it ... it sounds like an overreaction when I say it out loud like this, but it just seemed like she was trying to sway me, for me to see things her way. And then it really started. I got this," he said, and handed over a packet of papers. "It's a custody suit. This long lost relative who I'd never met before and who Sarah never mentioned once is trying to take my son away from me."

Connor's hair was warm and soft against Wes's palm. Connor looked up at him with eyes bluer than any sky he'd ever seen. "Daddee!" he said. Wes smiled and kissed his forehead before setting him down. Connor crawled away, finding a pattern in the marble flooring to trace with tiny fingers.

Wesley turned his attention back to the conversation. "Custody suit? You know we don't really deal with ..."

"Wes, look at the letterhead." Angel extended a paper.

Wesley's eyes narrowed. "Wolfram and Hart. Well, that puts it in a different light altogether, doesn't it?"

***

"You know the name?" Mr. Smart asked.

Wesley nodded shortly. His fingers came up to unconsciously touch the scar that was pulling at his throat. It had healed too tightly. He leveled his gaze. "Tell me what else has happened."

Mr Smart massaged the back of his neck with one hand. "I hate to say this, but I panicked. I took Jakey and left town, went down to San Diego for a while. Got a little bit of work painting houses for cash. I'd hoped I could wait it out somehow, like if they couldn't find me, they'd give up and decide they didn't want Jakey after all."

"But it didn't work," Wes said speculatively.

Mr. Smart grimaced. "A week and a half after I took Jakey and split town, there was an incident. I don't know exactly how or what it was, but one night this -- this *thing* broke into the room we were renting and tried attacking me."

"And what did this thing look like?" Wes asked patiently.

"Black skin with some sort of red markings. Red eyes. Reminded me a bit of Darth Maul."

Wesley nodded and got up to find a book. At least he had something to go on. "But you and the child weren't harmed?"

***

_"Sthelin mage," Angel said. Wesley looked at him and he shrugged. "I had a run-in with one about thirty years ago."_

"Is it a demon?" Wes asked.

"Partly, from what I've gathered," Angel answered. "Very strong magics, not to be taken lightly. How did you get away, John?"

Mr. Smart shook his head. "I don't know, exactly. He was coming for us, coming for my boy. I grabbed Jakey and then there was a flash and I looked up and he was gone. I have no idea what happened. I thought I should come get help, then."

Angel nodded slowly. "Sthelin mages are usually called in when there is a spell or ward to break. Maybe there's some sort of protection spell on your son. Did your wife ever give any indication that she --"

"She was very protective," Mr. Smart interrupted. "She always insisted one of us be with him at all times. I thought she was just being a normal, paranoid, first time mother, but now I'm starting to believe differently."

"You're starting to believe that perhaps she knew something about this, something she never told you," Wesley stated.

"Someone wants your son," Angel said. "Badly enough to employ a less than moral law firm and a powerful mage in order to get him."

***

"So what do I do? How do I protect him?" Mr. Smart asked. He stood and paced restlessly as Wesley jotted down a note on a legal pad. "Sooner or later they'll figure out a way around the -- protection spell, or whatever it is. I'm just a man, here. I'm not even a particularly strong man."

Wesley could feel the nervous, restless energy coming off of him. He sympathized, remembering the love he'd had for Connor, before. But the feelings for Angel were greater, the need to protect him stronger than the bond he'd formed with the baby. There wasn't much Wesley regretted, but this was one thing. He wisheed he'd been strong enough and smart enough to have seen through to the lies in the prophecy and Holtz's deal. He wisheed his protection of Angel hadn't blinded him to the truth -- that he'd been played. But he was just a man, just like Mr. Smart.

Wes looked up. "You're his father. That's stronger than you could possibly know."

"I can't even fight," the other man said, eyeing the assorted weapons around the room. "I've had no training. Hell, I've never even fired a gun. I can't keep Jakey safe."

"Mr. Smart, I assure you --"

"Take him. Keep him safe. Hide him somewhere far away, or with someone who can protect him," Mr. Smart pleaded.

***

_Angel looked over at Wesley. He had a look that said, 'I'm thinking something here. Figure it out with me,' and made Wes feel important. "So we need someone with powerful magic," Angel said slowly. "Someone on our side."_

After only a few seconds, Wesley caught on. "I'm guessing we'll be planning a trip to Sunnydale?"

Angel nodded. "I'll go call, see if Willow's willing to meet somewhere."

***

"Where is your son now?" Wes asked.

"A friend came with me from San Diego --"

"We'll get him. From now on I don't want you to let him out of your sight," Wes said, grabbing his jacket and a gun. He stopped John and handed him the revolver.

"What's this for?" John said. "I don't know anything about guns."

"You'll learn. I'll teach you. You need to be willing to do anything to keep your son. Anything. Sthelin mages aren't human, but you can hurt them just the same," Wes said.

"But I'm still ... I'm just a man. I don't have any powers or, or magic. I don't know if I can --"

Wesley turned to him with hard eyes that made John shiver. "Your son stays with you."

***

_"You think we should call Fred and Gunn?" Angel said. He tipped his head and looked beside him at Wesley, who sat in the passenger seat with two old leather-bound books and a notepad._

Wesley's mouth quirked but he didn't look up. "And why would we do that?"

Angel turned back to face the road and shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know, in case they had a question or something?"

Tapping the top of his pen against his chin, Wes struggled not to smile. "What would they have a question about?"

"Forget it," Angel said, clearly annoyed. He stared out at the dark road until Wes held his cell phone in front of him.

"Go ahead and check up on Connor," Wesley said. He was no longer keeping the amusement out of his voice.

"I'm not checking up, I just want to call, just ... just in case," Angel said almost petulantly.

"Mmm hmm," Wes said, smiling.

"Oh, just put that away. I won't call. Happy? Not calling."

*Happy?* Wesley thought about it. He'd thought about it a lot. He'd thought about it for years, but now he was thinking about it as a real thing, right there in front of him. 

Angel's hand was right beside him on the seat, and all Wes had to do was bring his hand straight down to cover it. Angel looked down. Stunned, maybe. Shocked? But didn't say anything. 

"Yes," Wesley said simply.

***

"So why is this particular mage after the child?" Wes asked, his eyes watering from the exhaled, acrid smoke.

"Ah. I have heard of this child," Zephram said. Wesley still wasn't sure, after months of visits, whether or not the old man was human. In an ancient voice, Zephram went on. "Coveted since his birth, but unattainable because of his parentage."

"I don't understand."

Zephram gave a gravelly chuckle and took another pull of his pipe. He exhaled and coughed, then turned bleary, jaundiced eyes back to Wes. "The child is special. Ordained. The parents are conduits for his protective magics. As long as they are around, not even the strongest warlock can take him."

"But if one died, say, his mother ..."

"Then there would be certain groups that would try to procure the child. It would still be impossible, however. Some people do not do their research. As long as a parent -- either parent -- is present, no harm can come to the child."

"But what can the child do? He's only a baby. He barely talks."

"He's just a child now, but he will grow. Become. It is only a matter of time," Zephram said. "There are those who would wish to be the ones to teach, to extend trust, so that they may benefit when he reaches maturity."

"But he will be safe with his father," Wes murmured to himself.

_"Wes, take him away!" Angel called, trying to get in a good punch._

Willow chanted and the air crackled with magic, orange-red lights sparking around him. Her eyes were black and her face angry, but the Sthelin mage was her match.

The mage held out one gloved hand and seemed to smooth the magic. The lights dimmed and blurred.

Wesley held Jakey tightly and tried to escape while Angel and Willow fought, fist and spell, against the mage, but then Willow was unconscious and Angel was knocked down, struggling to get up, and the mage was at Wesley's side.

His arms tingled and then fell numb. It seemed as if he were watching from afar when the mage took the child from his arms and walked away, leaving them there unharmed.

***

"And how much did you know about all of this?" Wesley asked Lilah as he untucked her blouse from her skirt.

"Oh, come on Wes. You know I don't like to talk business," she said coyly, moving to unbutton his shirt. "There are so many other things we could be doing with our mouths."

Wes caught her hand just as she slid it against his skin. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Lilah. I know how much Wolfram and Hart likes to see children taken from their families."

"Oh, spare me the melodrama." She moved away from him, then moved back. She put her hand on the side of his neck and ran her thumb down the still-pink scar. "This doesn't take it back, though, does it?" she murmured. "You could keep a hundred brats with their fathers and it wouldn't make it go away. You're no closer to Angel than when you started."

"The child is safe. We know how the protection works. Until he's mature enough to use his power knowingly, as long as he stays with his father, they're both protected," Wesley said.

Lilah smiled, and Wesley shivered. For a moment she looked loving and full of pride. "Shut up, Wes." She kissed him and they fell to the bed, and then Wesley was sinking inside her, and she was laughing.

***

_Four days later._

The book in Wesley's hands closed with a hollow thump and he sighed.

"Did you find it?" Angel asked.

Wes looked up and Angel was standing at the open door to his room. Wes took a moment to admire the view. Light gray shirt with two buttons opened at the collar, soft black trousers. Relaxed. Sexy.

Wesley swallowed and met Angel's eyes. "The child was what they call _Escolhido_ , or Ordained. The people who have him now are probably a group from the East, or maybe a modern tribal council from South America. They'll use him, exploit his powers for their own purposes." He made a pained face, thinking that it could have been their Connor, taken away to grow up with someone else.

Then Angel was beside him, his hand on his shoulder. "What else could you have done? You did what you thought was right. There's no blame here, Wes, except maybe on me. I should have ..."

Wes looked down and frowned. "If I had researched more thoroughly, found this before we took ..."

"Listen," Angel said, and his fingers were touching Wes's chin, tipping his head up to force him to meet his eyes. "No one is blaming you."

He had that feeling again, the nauseated, too excited, happy joyous feeling that he got sometimes, only this time it was close enough to touch, was touching him, and he stared at Angel's mouth and licked his lips.

*END*

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Jane Davitt in the Angel Book of Days Autumn Challenge. Prompt: Wesely set during his estrangement when he's in business ~ Don't want death of a main character or anything too graphic when it comes to violence. 
> 
> Author's notes ~ So much help on this! Thanks to Violetsmiles and Vicious Wishes for beta work, and thanks to Minim Calibre, Sisabet and Luminosity for character help. Not to mention the original hashing out that a lot of others did with me. Also, thanks to half of my AIM buddy list for putting up with my ranting and whining and general neurotic tendencies. You all deserve chocolate. And porn.


End file.
